Nightclub of Moria
by Beloved Fool
Summary: Co-written with Hobbit-eyes and Woundup Orange. The Fellowship discover the den of excitement that was once the home of the dwarves. Hilarity ensues!
1. Chapter One

This was written with the joint efforts of myself, the terrific Hobbit-eyes and my brother, Woundup Orange.  
  
Reviews appreciated!  
  
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The Fellowship of the Ring had come to a halt outside of the door into Moria. The moon was out from behind the dark clouds and the ithildin was shining from the light it gave, illuminating their faces, the elaborate markings casting strange shadows on each member. Meriadoc Brandybuck, one of the three plucky hobbits accompanying the Ringbearer on this perilous quest, spoke up.  
  
"What does it say?" He inquired. Gandalf the Grey looked around, but it was Legolas, the one and only elf of the Nine Walkers, who spoke, his gaze still on the door and his expression one of gormless awe.  
  
"It says, 'Enter here all who love to dance. Admittance shall be one melon and all under five feet shall go free.'"  
  
"Why did they have to write it in ithildin?" asked Pippin curiously.  
  
"Duh? Ithildin is so IN right now," said Legolas, "You can't call yourself a nightclub unless your door has ithildin on it. Or glow sticks."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Glow sticks are good. I remember back in Westernesse-"He stopped at their glares. "What?" He asked innocently.   
  
Gandalf rolled his yes and turned to Sam who was standing next to Bill and cursing because the pony had trodden on his unshod foot.  
  
"Do not fool about, Samwise," he said a trifle crossly. "Have a look in Bill's saddlebags. We shall need four of the melons that you and Pippin picked up at the Bree Carnival." Sam rummaged through the many bulky bags on the pony's back. After removing a pineapple, a bag of green candy floss, three carrots, Eru knows how many mushrooms, two health bars ("What are these doing here?"), and a pogo stick, he cried, "Aha!" and produced four watermelons. Gandalf handed them to the three other tallest members of the Fellowship, keeping one for himself, and they dropped them into the elaborately carved collection bin beside the door. When Legolas dropped the fourth melon on top of its fellow, err, fruits, the heavy door swung open and they filed inside.  
  
Before the hobbits entered, Gandalf suddenly remembered Bill the pony. Obviously being of the equine persuasion, he couldn't follow them down the mine, which would otherwise be too cruel, so he took Sam aside and explained. The little hobbit consequently burst into noisy tears and buried his face in the front of the wizard's robe. Gandalf patted him awkwardly on the back, waiting for him to calm down whilst Boromir and Aragorn took some of the packs from Bill's back and released him. His hooves echoed forlornly on the rock as he trotted away.  
  
Several hundred tentacles chose this moment to shoot out of the water so fast that greased lightening would have been no competition, and grabbed Frodo.   
  
"EEEEK!" said Frodo. His companions all stared at him in confusion. "I mean, uh, a more masculine sort of scream. Not like Pippin's at all." All shook their heads worriedly, except Pippin, who muttered angrily that he wasn't expecting the firework to go off like that.   
  
"What is that thing?" asked Aragorn.   
  
"'Tis the Bouncer," Gandalf said fearfully, "None may enter unless they have at least a little style."  
  
"Then why does it not seize the dwarf?" asked Legolas, a smug smile on his face that he had finally, successfully, made a joke.   
  
"I know you are but what am I?" retorted Gimli. The Fellowship rolled their eyes.   
  
"But what shall we do about Mr Frodo?" said Sam, as they watched the Bouncer whirling Frodo around its head.   
  
"It's making me dizzy..." said Boromir.  
  
"We must save him, of course!" said Gandalf, "But what is making him so unstylish?"  
  
"His hair?" supplied Merry.  
  
"His clothes?" added Pippin.   
  
"Thanks, guys;" called Frodo, "Glad to know you approve of my taste."   
  
"You're welcome," beamed Pippin.   
  
"I do declare, it may be the Ring," said Legolas pensively, Gold rings are just TACKY."   
  
"Keen is the fashion sense of the Elves," said Aragorn.   
  
"And bad are their biscuits," said Gimli.   
  
"Flour and sugar look very similar, you know," snapped Legolas, "It's an easy mistake to make,"   
  
"Yet a fatal one," tutted Gimli despairingly. Legolas pulled out an arrow angrily.   
  
"How do you think this would look halfway up your-"   
  
"EEEEEK!" cried Frodo again, reminding them of his predicament and his extreme girliness.   
  
Legolas stuck his tongue out at Gimli but nocked the arrow and let loose. Unfortunately, at that moment, the dwarf shoved him roughly and the elf's arm was knocked out of position.  
  
Luckily, a tentacle prevent Frodo from acquiring an extra breathing hole, and the hobbit began screaming and cussing angrily at the elf and dwarf, who were now engaged in the fist stage of a slanging match, each of them starting to go red in the face.  
  
"Nice going there, stumpy!" hissed Legolas.   
  
"STUMPY? You're the one with all the bloody nancin' 'elven grace'! Why couldn't you have -?"   
  
"All right there, ladies, break it up! In case you haven't noticed, the Ringbearer is still in the hands, err, tentacles of the Bouncer!" Aragorn reminded them, whilst STILL managing to wield his sword and hack away at errant tentacles at the same time. They returned to trying to save Frodo (who was still cussing, using words that nearly made poor Sam's ears bleed), with twin glares, each trying to convey to the other without words, that some extreme PAIN was owed...well, basically they got back to their JOB.   
  
Then the whole upper body of the Bouncer emerged from the lake. There was some weird hybrid lion/octopus thing going on, which made Frodo scream even louder and higher than before. This may have been what saved him, however, as Legolas' ears popped and the Bouncer recoiled, withdrawing its tentacles to cover its sensitive hearing organs. This obviously involved ALL of them, including the one around the Ringbearer's waist. As it submerged beneath the murky water of the lake, the Bouncer threw Frodo to the ground.  
  
"Into the nightclub!" said Gandalf rebelliously and marched through the doors, not realizing that there were glass ones behind the stone ones. "Ooof."  
  
"Loser," said Pippin.   
  
"I'm badly hurt..." moaned Frodo, lying on the beach. Everyone ignored him.   
  
Gandalf and Legolas stepped tentatively into Moria; Gandalf because he was trying to look austere after the door-hitting incident, and Legolas because hello, he always went first.   
  
"Yes, why does Legolas always go first?" said Pippin, reading the paragraph above.   
  
"Expendable," said Gimli.   
  
"It's because I look COOL when I look shrewd!!" called back Legolas angrily.   
  
"No, you always look like a shrew, full stop," said Gimli. Legolas turned round, pulling an arrow out of his quiver as he went, but Aragorn stopped him. Legolas resorted to a very un-Middle-earth gesture, causing Pippin to blink.   
  
Finally all of the Fellowship were peering around the nightclub. There was darkness in every corner, every tile, every nook and cranny. They were even playing 'The Darkness'. It was a very dark place. Frodo looked around the dark place.  
  
"This is a dark place," he said darkly.   
  
"That it is, Mr Frodo," said Sam lightly.   
  
"Wrong shade of voice, Sam," said Pippin.   
  
Boromir looked darkly in the dark at the dark place. "This place has a dark feel," said Boromir.   
  
Gandalf pulled out a glow stick and held it aloft. Around them they saw an empty hall, stretching in each direction. "Well, it appears safe enough," he said.   
  
"It says that it's karaoke night," said Pippin, picking up a leaflet.   
  
"Oscrew ev'ry fingfor itisall blud eyanoying," said Legolas, breaking into an elvish curse.   
  
"Language," tutted Aragorn.   
  
Gandalf looked around warily. "Soon it will begin," he said fearfully, "We must reach the other side."   
  
"Why can we not leave this cursed place?" said Legolas.   
  
"Because of the prophecy inscribed in the houses of Elrond - 'Those who doth enter the Mines of Moria shalt not hath their melons returned.' We must continue," said Gandalf, "Be on your guard - there are older and fouller things than orcs in the deep places of the world."   
  
"Like what?" said Pippin.   
  
"Dwarves," said Legolas.  
  
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How was that? Funny enough? More adventures from the Fellowship in the Nightclub of Moria soon... 


	2. Chapter Two

**I am soooo sorry. I put this on a disk, deleted the backup by mistake then lost the disk. How dumb, ne? But anyway, I found it and after probably more than a year of waiting for some of you, it's back!**

**This feature could not have been possible without Hobbit-eyes™ and Woundup Orange™ and of course the influence of the Pink Vanilla Coke Fairy™.**

**As usual, we do not own Tolkien Enterprises© nor do we own the characters upon which this feature is based.**

**For Home Use Only.**

**Here we are yet again with another instalment of the Nightclub of Moria. We left our heroes just by the entrance of the mine. Legolas and Gimli were bickering. Gandalf was scratching his beard in puzzlement. The hobbits were – meh, who really cares? Let's just get on with the story…**

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Further into Moria, the Fellowship went, Legolas and Gimli bickering all the way. Finally, an annoyed Aragorn turned around.

"Stop it or you'll bring the geeks down on us!" Legolas looked confused.

"What are the geeks?" He asked. Aragorn didn't answer, having just collided with Boromir's shield.

"Creatures of extreme darkness," said Gandalf, "If you attract their attention, they will infect you with a tendency to snort when you laugh and be unfashionable for the rest of your life." The rest of them (excluding Aragorn who was trying to stem his nosebleed with no help whatsoever from the others) gasped in horror. Gandalf went on,

"Mostly the geeks are pre-occupied with the karaoke, even taking part occasionally, so we must make haste." He bent down and picked up a parchment leaflet that was slightly bloodstained and blackened at the edges. Pippin eyed it uneasily.

"What's that for?" He asked. Gandalf shot him a look of annoyance.

"I'm getting to it," he snapped, "it's a site map, telling us where we are."

"But we know where we are," Pippin said.

"We're near the entrance," Legolas pointed out helpfully. Gimli sniggered. Gandalf sighed and started again.

"This will lead us to the next exit on the other side of the mountain," he explained. His face fell as he read the strange markings on the parchment. Finally, he sighed again and looked up at the others who were watching, faces rapt.

"Well?" asked Merry.

"Where do we go now?" said Pippin. Gandalf rapped him on the top of his head with his staff.

"If you'd kindly shut up, I'll tell you," he said, "We are near the Ball Pool and the bridge we need to cross is right next to the Manager's Office." One look at the wizard's face told the rest of the Fellowship that this was not necessarily a good thing.

"What about the Manager's Office?" Boromir finally asked, "What's so bad about that?" Gandalf hesitated. Eight of the Nine Walkers suddenly had a bad premonition. After a few minutes of quiet reflection, it was Boromir who ventured the question.

"Gandalf, would we by any chance be meeting our doom sometime around now?" Gandalf cleared his throat, still nervous.

"Aah. Yes. That is a very good question, err-"

"Boromir."

"Yes, yes. Well done that man."

"So…?"

"As long as we don't disturb the security troll we will be fine." Legolas rolled his eyes.

"Great. A troll. Delightful."

"Shut up, you golden-haired wuss," said Gimli, brandishing his axe as if the troll were already bearing down on them. "We'll take that troll any day." Legolas snorted.

"Pfft. As if you could, Weirdy-beardy. Why," he said, laughing," You're so short that when it rains, you're the last to know."

"HEY!" All four hobbits glared at the archer. He meeped a little and turned to stare as haughtily as he could at the wall.

Gandalf tried to reassert his authority as an elderly man with a stick and motioned for them to follow him as they walked on towards the Ball Pool.

Finally, entering a small room, they stopped whilst Gandalf checked the map again. In the corner, a few rusted iron balls lay there, collecting dust. Pippin, ever the curious hobbit, picked one up and hefted it, measuring its weight.

"Ah, yes. We're in the Ball Pool now and the Manager's Office is opposite the Bridge of Doom," Gandalf said. Pippin dropped the ball on Sam's foot and looked up at the wizard with round, fearful eyes. Aragorn frowned as Sam hopped around, cursing.

"Don't you mean Khazad-dûm?" Gandalf tried to avoid everyone's stares.

"Err…yes…?"

The hobbits, dwarf and elf sighed in relief, obviously duped by Gandalf's incredibly bad cover-up. Aragorn and Boromir, however, remained unconvinced, but instead of saying anything, they raised their guard and stared around suspiciously.

"We'd better go then," said the wizard, folding the map up and putting it in a hidden pocket in his cloak as they followed him out of the room.

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**Review, people. Please...?**


	3. Chapter Three

Sorry it's been such a long time. Woundup Orange passed away and it's been very hard to muster anything up in the way of a next chapter since. This one's for Mort.

Usual disclaimer applies.

XD Impending doom for the Fellowship of the Ring as they get closer to uncovering the secret horror of the Nightclub of Moria [incidentally the word count for the last chapter, not counting the author notes, _was_ 666….

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They walked along aimlessly for a while until Aragorn took the map from Gandalf and turned it the right way up.

The next room was smaller and had the look of a study about it. There was a large desk in a corner; a high-backed chair behind it and stacks of yellowing parchment collected in two trays marked 'Inne' and 'Outte' on top. Pippin immediately ran to the desk and began rifling through them, creating clouds of dust that the others had to step back to avoid. The others studiously avoided looking at the few skeletons in the corner, dwarves and Geeks that looked as though they had been in a drunken brawl when they died.

Ah,' said Gandalf satisfactorily. 'The Manager's Office. And from here on to the Bridge of Doo-ah, Khazad-dûm,' he amended again hastily at sharp glances from the two Men.

'Here, Master Took,' he said suddenly. 'Let's look at what's written there.' He held out a hand into which the younger hobbit placed a few leaves of parchment with the spiky writing of the Dwarves across it. It looked like log entries and disturbingly, the latest dated one suddenly trailed off into mad scribbles down the page.

'What does it say, Gandalf?' Frodo asked curiously. The wizard cleared his throat and began reading.

'…_The beer has run out. _

_Geeks came, attracted by the lure of Karaoke and we were foolish enough to believe that they were lightweights. They drank the last keg and got violent. We're holed up in here for the time being but we don't know for how long. _

_The beer has run ou-'_

Sam gulped.

'Um,' said Frodo. 'By any chance, how many Geeks are we looking at being here now?'

Gandalf waved a hand airily. 'Oh, not many. Just try not to snort – that's their mating call.'

Pippin chose that moment to pull a long cord that dangled close to the chair behind the desk and all along the corridor outside and beyond, bells began to sound, rather alarmingly loud in the previous silence.

Several moments later, when the echoes were just starting to die away, everyone was still glaring daggers at the poor mischievous hobbit, who, if possible, was trying to make himself even smaller. Gandalf stalked over and hit him on the head with the knobbly bit of his staff.

'Right, now we're sitting ducks, we should make a move for it,' he declared brusquely to the rest of them. 'Come on, to the bridge.'

Boromir, who was making his ay out through the door first, suddenly backed up into Aragorn again, who in turn protected his already bruised nose. Following Boromir's stricken gaze, the rest saw a quivering arrow protruding from the wood.

'Geeks,' Gimli said shortly and brandished his axe in the direction from which the new threat had come.

Aragorn removed the arrow. 'L.A.R.Pers,' he specified, throwing it to the ground.

Legolas cursed in Elvish again. 'The worst kind,' he hissed, his bow drawn and arrow notched. The hobbits huddled together and each had drawn their swords. Sting was glowing a hideous shade of neon green that made Frodo feel rather sick to look at. He hoped this would be over soon.

Then the first of them charged through the door, followed by a wave of others, similarly clad in baggy black clothing and ill-fitting armour. These were cut down by the Men and Gimli jumped in to deal with those that decided to go for the weaker-looking hobbits. As soon as those were dealt with, there was a kind of lull until a much louder, more terrifying sound amid a background of soft snorting was heard…

'…_Ahh, testing, 1, 2, 3…_'

Boromir sighed. 'They have a karaoke machine with them.'

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XD No disrespect to fellow L.A.R.Pers. As for karaoke, that can go hang. 


End file.
